


Valentine's Day is for Suckers

by richonne4life



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Co-workers, Eventual Romance, F/M, Falling In Love, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Funny, Happy Ending, Idiots in Love, Interracial Relationship, Love Confessions, Romance, Romantic Comedy, Romantic Fluff, Romantic Friendship, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-12 18:27:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29763759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/richonne4life/pseuds/richonne4life
Relationships: Rick Grimes & Michonne, Rick Grimes/Michonne
Comments: 4
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter 1

* * *

"You ready?" Rick whispered to Michonne.

Michonne smirked and held up her notepad. "I am," she whispered back. "I came prepared."

They smiled at each other as they shuffled into a conference room alongside their coworkers. Everyone quietly settled into their usual seats around the long, oval-shaped table and waited for Negan to start the meeting. He was already sitting in his customized red leather and white fur chair at the head of the table. There was already a deep-set scowl on his face.

"Twelve percent!" he shouted, slamming his fist down on the table. "Sales are down twelve percent from this time last year!" he shouted louder.

Michonne, knowing what was coming next, sighed to herself and picked up her pen. As soon as Negan closed his eyes and started to inhale and exhale, she started doodling in her notepad. Negan's breathing exercises could take anywhere from ten seconds to ten minutes, depending on how worked up he got himself. Since he didn't allow anyone to speak while he calmed himself down, Michonne liked to doodle to focus on something other than the sound of his heavy breathing.

Almost three minutes passed before he was able to speak again.

"We have a quarterly goal to meet, people," he said in a controlled, even tone. "And if my memory serves me correctly, it's a pretty fucking reasonable goal."

Not yet trusting that Negan wouldn't need to take another breathing break, Michonne continued to doodle.

"But maybe, just maybe, my memory isn't serving me correctly," Negan contemplated. "Maybe my memory's like that hot little waitress at Hooters last night who brought me a plate of fried pickles when I very clearly ordered an appetizer—excuse me, a Hooterstizer, of Lots-a-Tots!"

Michonne felt Rick's eyes on her from across the table. She kept her eyes on her notepad and doodled a dancing tater tot. When she was done, she put her pen down and gave Negan her undivided attention. If he was talking about a hot little waitress, then he'd moved past his breathing exercises.

"Nah, I have a memory like the biggest, baddest, most well-hung elephant on the Goddamn planet," he boasted. "Oh, yes I do! And I'm as positive as a prom queen's pregnancy test three weeks after prom night that we did discuss our quarterly goal. It happened right here… in this very room… at this very table… on the morning of January 9th. Isn't that right, Jessie?"

Jessie, Negan's administrative assistant, stopped dictating meeting minutes to review the meeting minutes she'd taken on January 9th.

"That is correct, sir," she answered.

"And when we met on January 9th, what was the quarterly goal we all agreed on, Jessie?" Negan asked.

Michonne watched Jessie's eyes search the meeting minutes she'd dictated that day.

"Our quarterly goal was 'To crush the rest and be the best!', sir," Jessie answered.

"And who all attended that meeting, Jessie?" Negan asked calmly, though his face was slowly turning red.

"Blake, Phillip. Cooper, Jerry. Grimes, Richard. Harris, Andrea. Hawthorne, Michonne. Horvath, Dale. Jones, Morgan. King, Ezekiel. Michaels, Gareth. Peletier, Carol. Rovia, Paul. Stokes, Gabriel. Stookey, Bob. Walsh, Shane. Williams, Sasha," Jessie answered, reading the attendee list from the meeting minutes.

"And who all is attending today's meeting on this oh so lovely February 13th morning, Jessie?" Negan asked, his red hue deepening.

Jessie's apologetic eyes swept the room before reading the names from the current meeting's attendee list.

"Blake, Phillip. Cooper, Jerry. Grimes, Richard. Harris, Andrea. Hawthorne, Michonne. Horvath, Dale. Jones, Morgan. King, Ezekiel. Michaels, Gareth. Peletier, Carol. Rovia, Paul. Stokes, Gabriel. Stookey, Bob. Walsh, Shane. Williams, Sasha," she answered.

Negan sucked his teeth long and hard as he looked around the conference table. The fifteen faces looking back at him were the best of the best of his sales team, which made their underperformance the stinkiest kind of bullshit.

He sat back in his chair, put his hands behind his head, and propped his feet up on the tabletop.

"So what I'm hearing, Jessie, is that each and every ass sitting at my table right now was sitting at my table on January 9th. Is that right?"

"Yes, sir," Jessie answered.

"And what that means, Jessie, is that each and every one of these asses knows our quarterly goal will sure as shit be shot to shit if we don't turn things around. Fast. Faster than a fat kid chasing an ice cream truck!"

"Yes, sir," Jessie answered.

Michonne felt Rick's eyes pleading with her to look at him. She refused to do it. It was already hard enough keeping a straight face in Negan's team meetings. If she looked at Rick, she would never be able to maintain her composure. She'd made the mistake of looking at him two weeks ago after Negan used his go-to line about a fat kid chasing an ice cream truck. The second she saw the expression on Rick's face, she started laughing. She had to pretend she was having a coughing fit.

"I like you people. I really do," Negan said sincerely. "Hand to God, you are the most valuable resources to this company… But Goddamnit!" he shouted, "Heads will roll if we don't meet our quarterly goal!"

Negan swung his legs off the table and shot out of his chair to tower above his team.

"Gals, I need you to find your beach ball-sized lady nuts and make those sales! Fellas, I need you to swing those dicks around and make those sales! I need all of you inspiring the rest of the sales team to make those sales! That is the ohhhhh-nly way," he said, leaning back deeply, "we avoid PeePee Pants City on April 1st."

Michonne felt Rick's eyes boring into her. There was no way she was looking at him after the combination of Negan leaning and saying PeePee Pants City.

"Crush the rest, be the best on three, team!" Negan ordered. "One, two, three..."

"Crush the rest, be the best," Michonne mumbled flatly, matching the energy of her coworkers.

"Fuck yeah! Go get that shit done!" Negan grinned, dismissing the team. "Grimes, stick around. I need to talk to you."

Michonne finally looked at Rick as she made her way out of the conference room to silently question what Negan wanted. Rick gave her a slight eyebrow raise to say he didn't know. She subtly tilted her head in the direction of the breakroom to tell him to meet her there when they were done. Rick faintly dipped his head to tell her that he would.

* * *

Michonne had just dumped half as much sugar into her coffee as she normally did when Rick walked up to her in the breakroom and lightly bumped her shoulder with his.

"Having coffee with your sugar today?" he asked.

"Very funny," Michonne smiled, lightly bumping Rick's hip with hers. "After Andrea went on and on and on about the dangers of sugar yesterday, I'm cutting back."

She took a sip from her paper coffee cup and grimaced at the bitter taste.

"So what did Negan want?" she asked, setting her coffee down to pour more sugar in it.

"Nothing much," Rick shrugged. "He asked me to mentor those two new hires Noah and Alden. He says they have 'potential squirting out their shiny and new wazoos' but need some guidance with their phone and sales techniques. It's whatever," he said, shrugging again.

Michonne observed Rick as she sipped her coffee. He may have been saying it was whatever, but the pink tint of his cheeks and the excited smile he was trying to hide said otherwise.

"You're such a teacher's pet," she teased, setting her coffee down again to add more sugar.

"Hey, it's not my fault Negan recognizes my greatness," Rick replied with a cocky smile. "I'M THE BEST!" he shouted, DJ Khaled-style.

Michonne tensed but continued pouring sugar.

"Don't you dare start that up again, Rick Grimes," she warned, cutting her eyes at him.

On the first day back from his two-week Christmas vacation, Rick stood up in his cubicle every time he made a sale and shouted in his loudest DJ Khaled voice that he was the best. It didn't take long for other, much louder members of the sales team to start doing the same. There was an hour when Michonne heard over twenty DJ Khaled shouts, but her breaking point was when Gareth stood on his chair, shouted that he was the best, and started doing the Floss dance.

She had no choice but to go to Negan to get that shit shut down.

"Ok, ok," Rick laughed, holding his hands up in surrender. "I'm not trying to get on your bad side."

"Smart man," Michonne smiled, taking another sip of coffee. Pleased with how it tasted, she took a large gulp and moaned in delight.

"So Negan did it again!" Rick blurted out to distract himself from that little moan.

Michonne almost spit her coffee out trying not to laugh at their boss. "He did!" she said once she was finally able to speak. "Why's he always saying 'faster than a fat kid chasing an ice cream truck'? I was a fat kid. I never caught up to the ice cream truck. Not once," she laughed.

As awful as Negan was, Rick couldn't be too mad about the man being their boss when his obnoxious behavior made Michonne laugh so much. He never knew a laugh could be so pretty until he heard hers.

"I was a fat kid, too," he grinned.

"Yeah?" Michonne asked.

"Yeah. Well, up until high school when I joined the football team."

"I was a fat kid until high school when I joined the basketball team," Michonne shared with a smile, always happy to learn when they had something in common.

"Yeaaaaah, I can see you being a basketball star," Rick commented as his eyes slowly raked over Michonne's body.

He was only checking out her long legs, thick hips, and small waist to guess what position she played. At least, that's what he told himself.

"Point guard?" he asked.

"You know it!" Michonne grinned with a nod.

She didn't have to gaze at Rick's slim but muscular body to guess what position he played, but she did anyways.

"I'm not sure how you got all that hair under a helmet," she joked when her eyes made it up to his adorably curly curls, "but I'm guessing you were quarterback?"

"Starting QB from sophomore to senior year," Rick nodded. "And I've been meaning to get this cut," he added, self-consciously running a hand through his big, thick, springy hair. "The guys keep calling me Curly Fry."

Michonne was willing to bet that the guys were Shane and Phillip. She was also willing to bet that Shane was using the nickname in a brotherly, bust your balls way, while Phillip was saying it just to be a dick. Either way, she didn't appreciate the nickname or how it was making Rick feel.

"Those guys are dumbasses, Rick! If Shane didn't keep his hair shaved down, it would grow out bigger than yours and almost be as curly! Remember what it looked like last January? And Phillip's hair is too stringy and greasy for his opinion to matter!" she snapped. "As a matter of fact, if either of them or anyone else calls you Curly Fry again, you let me know and I'll take care of it! Your curls are beautiful! Keep them! Don't cut them off!" she said sharply. "But… but, if you want to cut them off, you should," she quickly said in a softer voice. "It's your hair," she mumbled, looking down at her almost empty coffee cup.

Her face burned with embarrassment. She hadn't meant to get so worked up over Rick's curls, but she liked them a lot and didn't want him bullied into getting rid of them.

Rick looked down at his feet to hide his smile. He'd been suspecting for months that Michonne had a thing for his hair. Now that he knew for sure how much she liked it, he was never cutting his curls off.

"Can someone please tell me how the hell 'crush the rest and be the best' is a realistic, tangible goal?" Sasha grumbled, storming into the breakroom. "If he wants us to exceed last year's numbers, why doesn't he just say that? And what the hell is PeePee Pants City?" she grumbled, squeezing between Rick and Michonne to pour coffee into her oversized coffee mug. "My three-year-old nephew has better cognitive reasoning abilities and communication skills than that idiot!"

Before Rick or Michonne could respond, the loud blare of an air horn made the three jump.

"Can I have your attention, folks? I need your attention!" Shane's voice boomed from somewhere on the floor. "Do not be alarmed if you walk by my cubicle today! That's just my dick that'll be swinging! For your safety and mine, please remain at least two feet from my cubicle at all times! I repeat, remain at least two feet away to avoid my swinging dick! I ain't responsible for dick-swinging injuries or accidental pregnancies!"

Another loud blare of his air horn made Rick, Michonne, and Sasha jump again.

"This concludes my public service announcement! Get your asses back to work!" Shane shouted.

"Idiots. I'm surrounded by idiots," Sasha muttered to herself, storming out of the breakroom with her coffee.

Rick silently wondered if Sasha would spend lunch ranting about the office idiots. When she was in rant mode, she'd talk nonstop without blinking, without taking a breath until Bob gave her a kiss and told her to look on the bright side.

"It's not even 10 yet. Bob will've calmed her down by lunchtime," Michonne said, answering Rick.

"You think?" he asked.

"Mmhmm," she nodded before sighing loudly and finishing the last of her coffee.

Rick had a good idea why she had just sighed but was too mesmerized by the sight of her tongue to say anything. The pink tip of it had just peeked out from between her lips to lick the remnants of coffee from them.

And then, he was mesmerized by her pretty lips. They were so plump. They looked so soft...

With strength he didn't know he possessed, he stopped staring at Michonne's mouth and looked her in the eyes.

"You still miss Deanna," he said.

"I do, Rick! This place has been a madhouse ever since Negan took over," she complained.

Michonne was still devastated that their former boss resigned six months ago. But family always came first for Deanna, so it was no surprise when she and her husband Reg decided to move to Virginia for their son Spencer. For reasons Deanna wouldn't discuss, Spencer had been placed under house arrest for a year. She and Reg were moving in with him to assist with his rehabilitation before his ankle monitor came off.

"Deanna was a good boss," Rick acknowledged, "but…"

"But what?" Michonne asked defensively.

"But without Negan, would you have ever discovered you have beach ball-sized lady nuts? Self-awareness is a helluva gift, Michonne."

Rick chuckled at the adorable way Michonne's face scrunched up.

"Is it?" Michonne deadpanned. "I think I've functioned just fine for twenty-five whole years without that awareness."

"True… You were able to function, but were you really living?" he jokingly pondered.

He chuckled again when Michonne narrowed her eyes.

"I'm coming real close to calling you an idiot, Rick Grimes," Michonne scoffed, holding back a smile.

"Sure, Jan," Rick grinned, knowing she would never call him an idiot.

He laughed when she gave him an adorable eye roll.

Michonne would've loved if beach ball-sized lady nuts had never been introduced into her vocabulary, but she had to admit that there was a definite upside to having Negan as their boss...

He was the reason she and Rick had become friends.

Rick was already part of the sales team when she was hired a year and a half ago, but because she was trained by Andrea and assigned a cubicle five rows away from his, they never did more than exchange pleasant greetings. Their relationship changed the day Deanna introduced Negan as her replacement. That was the first time Negan hit them with an "ohhhhh-nly" and a lean. When Michonne looked around to see if anyone else was struggling not to laugh, she noticed how red Rick's face was. Their eyes locked and they'd been laughing at Negan and growing as friends ever since.

"Negan will probably start patrolling the floor soon," Michonne sighed. "We should get back to our cubes."

Rick didn't like that suggestion, but before he could convince Michonne to stay just a little longer, she'd already thrown her coffee cup away and was walking out the breakroom.

"Come on, Grimes," she chirped over her shoulder.

Michonne really loved talking to Rick, but she had to walk away. They tended to lose track of time whenever he convinced her to stay a little longer. They'd once taken a morning break that lasted so long it led into their noon lunchtime.

"You ready for Valentine's Day tomorrow?" Rick asked when he caught up to her.

He was excited about February 14th for the first time in years, and it was all because of Michonne. They were on a lunch break with Sasha and Bob last week when they discovered they had the same disdain for Valentine's Day. Naturally, they teamed up to argue with Sasha and Bob about the day being an emotionally draining, financially crippling, mentally exhausting scam of a "holiday". Sasha and Bob just looked at them with pity before acting like the disgustingly in love couple that they were and feeding each other lunch.

Rick and Michonne ignored the lovebirds and happily continued hating on Valentine's Day with each other. By the end of their lunch break, they agreed to be as anti-Valentine's as possible on Valentine's Day. To give the day the middle finger, Michonne was going to meet Rick at his place after work to watch the most unromantic movies and eat the most unromantic food. They decided on the Saw movies and chili cheese dogs topped with onions and jalapeños.

Rick couldn't wait.

"I forgot to tell you something!" Michonne squeaked.

She grabbed Rick's hand, pulled him into an empty office, and closed the door behind them. Rick's heart started beating at an insanely wild rate when Michonne stood in front of him and looked up at him with the sweetest, brownest eyes.

They were standing so close together... It would be so easy for him to lean in and press his lips against hers.

"What is it?" he asked softly, wanting to put his hands on her thick hips to pull her closer. "You change your mind about Valentine's Day being for suckers?"

"Of course not!" Michonne quickly retorted, offended by the question. "Valentine's Day is for suckers. It's just… Mike asked me out this morning when we were on the elevator. He wants to take me out… on Valentine's Day."

Rick fought the urge to tilt his head and squint at Michonne.

"Mike who?" he asked after a few seconds.

"Mike. Mike Anthony," Michonne answered, anxiously sliding her hands into the back pockets of her tight jeans. When Mike's name didn't seem to register with Rick, she told him, "He works in I.T."

Rick shrugged as if he had no idea who she was talking about.

"The I.T. team that's been trying to get everyone to call them Team GREATM," Michonne clarified.

Rick shrugged again.

"The I.T. team your best friend Glenn works on," she said.

"Oh. Yeah. That I.T. team," Rick replied. "You talking about the redhead?"

"No, that's Abraham," Michonne answered.

"The one with the mullet?"

Michonne shook her head. "That's Eugene."

"The one with the..." Rick cupped his hands and brought them up to his chest.

Michonne swatted his hands down. "That's Tara," she guessed, judging by how big he'd cupped his hands, "and she's definitely not a Mike."

"Then the one with the..." Rick brought his hands, which were cupped smaller, back up to his chest.

"That would be Rosita, who's also definitely not a Mike. And stop describing women by their boobs!" she scolded, swatting his hands down again.

"Sorry, Michonne, but I don't know who you're talking about," Rick flat-out lied while crossing his arms.

He knew exactly who she was talking about. He'd met each member of Team GREATM because he was always visiting Glenn in the server room where they worked.

"Mike is the M in GREATM," Michonne explained, confused by how Rick wouldn't know that. "He's the tall, dark, and handsome one."

Rick didn't care for that description of Mike.

"So this Mike asked you out," he said, trying hard not to growl, "and..."

"And I accepted," Michonne cringed, hating that she was bailing on their plans.

After they stood in silence for what felt like an eternity, Michonne brought her hands to Rick's crossed arms and lightly gripped them.

"I know we made anti-Valentine's Day plans and I know this makes me the biggest hypocrite, but Mike was so nervous, and was stuttering, and was telling me how long he's had a crush on me, and I turned into a giggly girl who was being asked out by a cute boy for Valentine's, and..."

"And you said yes," Rick finished.

"I did," Michonne gently confirmed. "Is… is that okay, Rick?"

Her heart thudded frantically in her chest while she waited for his answer.

"Do you have a problem with that?" she asked softly.

The nervousness in Michonne's voice made Rick weak. The last thing he wanted to do was mess up their friendship by coming between her and the cute boy who asked her out.

"No, Michonne, I don't have a problem," Rick lied, giving her what he hoped was an understanding and supportive smile. "You definitely should go out with him," he lied again. "And I'm not judging you, I promise."

What he was doing was kicking himself. He hadn't been completely honest with Michonne about their anti-Valentine's Day plans, and now it was too late for that to matter. He'd initially been 100% on board with their Saw and chili dogs anti-Valentine's Day, but the more he thought about spending the evening with Michonne, the more he realized he wanted to do something more for her. He wanted to give her a real Valentine's Day. He wanted to be the person who changed her mind about what the day meant. Based on Sasha's movie recommendations for Michonne, he picked up Love & Basketball, Moulin Rouge, and If Beale Street Could Talk to watch instead of Saw. And Glenn's girlfriend Maggie had given him cooking lessons over the weekend and taught him how to make creamy Tuscan chicken, scalloped potatoes, and bacon avocado Cesar salad. For dessert, he was keeping it simple and giving her a one-pound Big Kat chocolate heart.

"I'm so sorry for ruining our anti-Valentine's Day, Rick, but how about we celebrate on Saturday?" Michonne suggested, gripping Rick's arms a little tighter.

"Sounds good," Rick replied, making sure to keep the disappointment from his voice.

Michonne gave him a small smile and let go of his arms.

"Then again," she said over her shoulder while walking to the door, "if Cupid's arrow hits, my Valentine's Day could turn into a long Valentine's weekend. I might not see you 'til Monday morning."

Rick's stomach dropped as he watched Michonne leave the office, and then all he saw was red.


	2. Chapter 2

"You're just sitting there like a creepy ass weirdo?" Glenn asked through his laughter.

"I'm not sitting here like a creepy ass weirdo," Rick grumbled into his phone.

"Bro," Glenn laughed, "you're sitting in your car in a dark parking lot spying on Michonne."

"So," Rick sniffed.

"So, that's textbook creepy ass weirdo shit!"

"I'm not a textbook creepy ass weirdo, Glenn."

Glenn laughed harder at the grumbled denial.

"Sweetface, can you zip me up?" Rick heard Maggie ask in the background. "Who's the weirdo?"

"Rick is!" Glenn wheezed. "He's sitting in Moonlight Café's parking lot watching Michonne and Mike on their date."

Glenn laughed even harder at Maggie's stunned expression.

"I know! A creepy ass weirdo, am I right?" he asked.

"Be nice," Maggie gently scolded as Glenn zipped up the back of her floor-length, pink, chiffon dress. "Rick just needs a little pep talk. May I see your phone, please?"

"You may," Glenn grinned at Maggie when she turned to face him, "but it's gonna cost you a kiss first."

"Glenn," Maggie whispered with a soft giggle.

Rick rolled his eyes when he heard the smack of their lips.

"One more," Glenn cooed in a low voice.

Rick heard another lip smack.

"One more."

"Glenn!" Maggie squeaked, giggling in delight. "Hi, Rick," she said sweetly into the phone after giving Glenn one more kiss.

"Hi, Mags," Rick smiled.

He'd met Maggie almost a year ago when she and Glenn started dating. She was a sweetheart of a person with a somewhat shy personality and a very soft-spoken nature. She was the complete opposite of the girls Glenn normally dated; Rick liked her immediately.

"What's going on, mister? I spent all Saturday teaching you how to cook," she said without judgment.

"I know, Mags," Rick sighed, leaning his head back against his headrest.

"And Sweetface hacked into Mike's phone for you and found his Valentine's plans."

"I know, Mags."

"Then quit being a creepy-A weirdo and go get your girl," Maggie giggled.

"Maggie, I—"

"You heard my baby!" Glenn interrupted after nabbing his phone from Maggie. "Quit being a creepy ass weirdo and go get your girl! No excuses!"

"I'm not being a creepy ass weirdo," Rick grumbled. "And I can't just—Hello?... Glenn?"

He dropped his phone to his lap when he realized Glenn had hung up. He was about to tell both Glenn and Maggie that he couldn't just storm into Moonlight Café and get his girl. It wasn't that simple, not when she seemed to be having such a good time on her date.

Rick gripped the top of his steering wheel with both hands and stared at Michonne and Mike. From where he was parked, he could see them perfectly. They were sitting across from each other at one of those tiny, little tables for two by the window. Michonne hadn't stopped talking, or laughing, or smiling since he first started watching them about twenty minutes ago, and Mike had been sitting there eye-fucking her the entire time. He couldn't say if Michonne didn't mind the eye-fucking or if she didn't notice the eye-fucking. To keep his sanity, he told himself she didn't notice it. Regardless of the eye-fucking, Rick wondered where it left him if Michonne and Mike were hitting it off so well.

He shot a squinty-eyed glare at Mike and started tilting his head to the right until his insecurity got the better of him. Could he even compete with Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome?

Rick considered himself to be a decent height at five-eleven; Mike was taller at about six-one. Rick thought he was good-looking; Mike was the one Michonne called handsome and cute. And when it came to being dark, Rick had no choice but to admit he was a lost cause. The best he could do was get a nice tan in the springtime, but he stayed different shades of sunburnt red in the summer and couldn't get past "white boy white", as Shane liked to say, in the fall and winter.

He looked down at his not yet tanned hands and wondered if his skin color could be a problem for Michonne. He had no issues with dating outside of his race, but would she?

He could understand if she did. Certain challenges would be avoided if he was with someone blonde-haired and blue-eyed like Andrea and if Michonne was with someone brown-skinned and brown-eyed like Mike, but those challenges weren't enough to stop him from wanting to be with Michonne… if being with him was something she wanted, too.

He wanted her to want that, but with all the laughing and eye-fucking going on, he doubted he'd ever make it out the friendzone. He hated that F-word but could find a way to live with it because his friendship with Michonne was everything.

So, when he saw his friend on Monday after she spent the weekend falling in love with and fucking that dipshit Mike, he would give her a congratulatory high-five. And when he became the fifth wheel at lunch, because of course Michonne would invite that twatface to eat lunch at the table they shared with Sasha and Bob, he would make friendly chitchat. And during their weekly team meetings when Michonne doodled hearts in her notepad, he would pretend her doodled hearts weren't breaking his heart in half.

Because that's what friends did.

Rick watched Michonne laugh at something Mike said and felt like growling in frustration, but he couldn't… because of Michonne. She looked too damn pretty when she laughed.

She looked too damn pretty, period. She always did, but tonight she looked pretty in a way he'd never seen before. Her face was all made up, her braids were curled and hanging down her shoulders and back, and she was wearing his favorite kind of dress—really, really short and really, really tight. He was surprised she picked a red dress since purple was her favorite color, but he wasn't complaining about the red.

He just wished she was all dressed up and looking so pretty for him tonight.

He watched her laugh again at something Mike said and released the white-knuckle grip on his steering wheel with a heavy, defeated sigh. His friend Michonne was having a good time, she was happy, and she was safe. It was time to put the creepy ass weirdo shit to rest.

He picked up his car keys and slowly twirled them once, twice, then a third time around his finger. Any second now, he was going to drive away.

He looked at Michonne and wrapped his fingers around his keys.

Any second now…

* * *

Michonne couldn't stop laughing. The stories Mike was telling her about Negan were alarmingly disturbing but also very hilarious.

"I'm sorry, I really don't mean to laugh," she apologized with a parting chuckle. "Negan sounds like an I.T. department's nightmare."

"H-he is," Mike nervously stuttered, watching Michonne's hand as it slid across the table towards him.

When her hand covered his and gave it a squeeze, he felt exactly like intergalactic badass Han Solo in the Empire Strikes Back, except instead of being frozen in carbonite, he was frozen by Michonne's soft touch. He regretted his inability to curl his fingers around Michonne's before she pulled her hand away, but he was filled with the resolve to hold her hand by the end of the evening.

"You have no idea how bad he is," he told her, staring longingly at her hand. "Negan forgets his password and locks himself out his computer at least twice a week," he said, looking into her eyes. She had such kind eyes. "He opens any email, downloads any attachment… His computer always has so many viruses on it," he cringed. "You don't even want to know the sites he visits."

"But I do," Michonne grinned, leaning closer to Mike from across the table. "Just between you and me," she whispered.

"Uhhhhhh," Mike breathed out shakily.

Michonne Hawthorne whispering about keeping a secret was the sexiest thing he'd ever experienced in his life. He had to think about The Phantom Menace, the disgrace of the Star Wars movies, to stop the blood from rushing directly to his lower region.

"J-just between you and me?" he asked when his blood flow was under control.

"Just between you and me," Michonne smiled, finding the boyish, wide-eyed wonder vibe of his kind of charming.

As a practice, Mike never shared IT-related information about one employee with another employee. It was a violation of privacy and it compromised his integrity as an I.T. professional. He made peace with sacrificing his integrity and Negan's privacy because the sacrifice was worth saving his night with Michonne.

Their date had gotten off to a rocky start when he asked her who her favorite Star Wars character was. Michonne's face instantly lit up, and for a very thrilling moment Mike thought he'd found a fellow Star Wars blerd. But then she said, "The trashcan robot is cute! The one that beeps and boops!" She then proceeded to beep and boop.

That level of R2-D2 disrespect left Mike reeling. He felt exactly like Obi-Wan in Revenge of the Sith when the Jedi Master realized Anakin was lost to the dark side. Mike wasn't sure if the night was even salvageable after that. He struggled through small talk until an offhanded comment he made about Negan changed everything. Michonne laughed at his comment. She laughed, and Mike only wanted to make her laugh again.

"Negan's always on the dark web," he shared. "For the past week, he's been shopping around for…"

The bizarreness of what he was about to say made him not want to say it.

"Go on," Michonne drawled in encouragement, resting her elbow on the table and cupping her chin in her hand.

The look of anticipation on Michonne's face was the second sexiest thing Mike had ever experienced. He squirmed in his chair and thought about The Phantom Menace again.

"For vampire bats," he told her. "Earlier this morning, someone calling himself TheDarkKnight claimed he could have a vampire bat shipped to Negan from a cave in Brazil. Negan was about to make his first three-thousand-dollar payment until I intercepted and blacklisted the browser he was on."

Michonne sat back in her chair and blinked at Mike.

"A vampire bat?!" she blurted loudly before bursting into laughter.

Mike gazed at Michonne in awe. He felt exactly like Luke in A New Hope when the young farmer took a moment to watch the binary sunset on Tatooine. Michonne was truly, supremely majestic. Everything about her, except for her Star Wars ignorance, was majestic. His eyes roamed to the binary elements jiggling on her chest, which he quickly looked away from when she started to speak.

"I'm so, so sorry, Mike. I really don't mean to laugh," Michonne apologized again, wiping the tears from her eyes. "Negan's just so much weirder than we ever thought."

She couldn't wait to tell Rick everything Mike had told her about Negan. She knew for a fact he was going to laugh so hard. She could already picture him clutching his stomach and bouncing from foot to foot with his head thrown back and his curls bouncing all over the place.

"It's ok," Mike replied sincerely. "I… I…"

Michonne smiled politely and waited patiently for him to gather his thoughts. She used the time to think about which Negan story she would share with Rick first. The vampire bat was the frontrunner, but Negan dirty-talking through work chats and emails with a senior human resources manager named Lucille was also a strong contender.

"M-Michonne," Mike stuttered nervously, slowly sliding his hand across the table to get to hers. "I'm happy you're here tonight… happy we're here… together. I still can't believe you didn't have Valentine's plans."

"Oh, I did!" Michonne replied, failing to notice the affect her enthusiastic response had on Mike, whose hand had stilled in the middle of the table.

"Oh," he breathed out softly. "You did?"

"Mmhmm," she hummed, starting to nod. "Well, no. They were anti-Valentine's plans."

Mike slowly retracted his hand back to his side of the table.

"Anti-Valentine's?" he asked quietly.

"With Rick," Michonne nodded, the corners of her mouth naturally rising. "Rick Grimes. From work."

Mike looked down at his cloth napkin that was folded into crisp, triangular perfection. "Sounds familiar," he mumbled, fiddling with the corner of the napkin.

Michonne's eyebrow quirked in annoyance. Rick Grimes wasn't someone who sounded familiar. He was Rick Grimes, end of story. She pulled her phone from her purse to show Mike who Rick Grimes was.

"This is Rick," she said, holding her phone out in front of his face.

It was a picture she'd taken at the sales team's holiday happy hour last year. Rick was shaking hands with Milton Mamet, their company's CEO, and smiling his cocky smile. He'd just been named salesperson of the year and was awarded two roundtrip tickets to Hawaii. The entire sales team wore ugly Christmas sweaters to the happy hour, so in Rick's shining moment, he was wearing a Too Lit to Quit sweater lit up with real Christmas lights.

The picture was one of Michonne's favorites.

"That's… he's Glenn's friend, isn't he?" Mike asked after briefly glancing at the picture.

"Yes! That's Rick!" Michonne said in triumph.

She took a lingering look at the picture while putting her phone down. Mike took a sip of his rum and Coke.

He knew exactly who the famous Rick Grimes was. Everyone did. Just like everyone knew Rick and Michonne were work-husband and work-wife. Even Mike's cousin Terry, who worked in accounting and didn't directly interact with Rick and Michonne, referred to them as Richonne.

It went against the Jedi way to hate, so Mike didn't hate Rick. But he really didn't like him. He thought Rick was obnoxiously loud and entirely too arrogant. He also believed that Rick's work relationship with Michonne acted as a force field preventing a Mikechonne relationship from developing. Every time Mike tried to approach Michonne, Rick Grimes was there. If he wanted to say good morning to her in the breakroom, Rick Grimes was there. If he wanted to ask her how her day was going at lunch, Rick Grimes was there. If he wanted to tell her to have a nice evening at the end of the day, Rick Grimes was there. Rick Grimes was always around.

But Mike knew something Rick Grimes didn't know…

Force fields weren't impenetrable.

Mike just had to wait for the moment Michonne appeared without Rick. After three long months, the moment came yesterday when Michonne was getting on the elevator by herself. With no Rick in sight, Mike dashed across the lobby to get on the elevator with her and everything he'd rehearsed in his bathroom mirror came spilling out. He rambled, he stuttered, he broke out in a sweat, but by the time they made it up to tenth floor, he'd asked Michonne out. Right before the elevator dinged and the doors opened, Michonne said yes.

A realization struck him Mike hard and fast. Michonne said yes even though she already had anti-Valentine's plans with Rick, whatever that meant.

"She gave up Rick… for me!" he thought out loud.

The sound of Mike's voice yanked Michonne from a memory of Rick at the happy hour. Rick's face was flushed from about three too many shots of Fireball, his eyes were glazed over but still held a sparkle, and his arm was thrown over her shoulder in the booth they were sharing with Sasha, Bob, and Shane. He'd drunkenly told her for the fourth time that he was "TOO QUIT TO LIT!" when Bob, also very much too lit to quit, started singing the first verse of I Got Five on It. Rick and Shane immediately joined in, drowning out the holly, jolly Christmas music that was already playing. Because drunk people.

"I'm sorry, what?" Michonne asked Mike.

"You gave up your date with Rick to go on a date with me," Mike stated rather than questioned.

Michonne's eyes widened from both surprise and confusion.

"Hi, guys, sorry to interrupt," the restaurant's perky hostess Enid said, pursing her lips in her signature pout. "But Jerry can talk to you about your special request if you're ready," she informed Mike, nodding her head towards the bar where Jerry was sitting.

Mike grinned at Enid's perfect timing. As part of the Sweetheart Special dinner package he purchased for the night, Jerry—Moonlight Café's table-side guitarist, was guaranteed to play one song of Mike's choosing. Mike wasn't sure what song to request when he booked the reservation, but now it seemed fitting to request the score from the binary sunset scene in A New Hope. The piece of music was repeated throughout the Star Wars saga, but Michonne deserved a song that powerful.

"Excuse me, Michonne. I have to talk to a man about a binary sunset," he said, rising from his chair.

"Ok," Michonne replied slowly, "but hurry back."

Mike cast a warm smile at his lovely date. "Patience you must have, my young padawan," he teased.

Michonne's eyebrow quirked as she watched Mike walk to the bar with Enid. She had no idea what a padawan was, and she was still very confused by his newfound big dick-ish energy. She only wanted him to hurry back to make it clear that she hadn't broken a date with Rick because there was no date to break. What she'd given up was a night of hanging out with a friend… a truly understanding and supportive friend who didn't bat an eye when she cancelled their anti-Valentine's plans.

Even though she hoped he would.

She was genuinely touched when Mike asked her out. There was a giddiness that sprouted in her chest from knowing someone had a good, old-fashioned crush on her. Guys usually expressed their interest through catcalls or tired pickup lines. What she hadn't heard in forever was a heartfelt profession of interest.

Mike's crush made her feel special. And as much as she talked shit about Valentine's day with Rick, being asked out on Valentine's by someone who had real feelings for her made her feel special, too.

A few minutes after she agreed to go out with Mike, Rick texted her to let her know he'd left Dixon Donuts and was headed to the office with breakfast for the team. He also let her know he set aside a bag of donut holes, a cinnamon roll, an apple fritter, and two pigs in a blanket for her. That was the moment Michonne figured something else out.

She wanted it to be Rick.

She wanted it to be Rick who asked her out on a real Valentine's Day date.

There were times she thought Rick might have more than friendship feelings for her, like when he bought all of her favorite donuts just because, so she was prepared to cancel her date with Mike for him. If he seemed even the least bit bothered by their canceled anti-Valentine's plans, she would know there was a chance for something more than friendship between them. But Rick's only reaction was to encourage her to go on the date with Mike. He didn't even flinch when she insinuated she might have sex with Mike, which wasn't going to happen.

She spent the rest of the day embarrassed that she'd misread Rick's feelings but relieved she hadn't confided in Sasha or Bob about it. She and Rick had a great friendship, and that didn't have to change.

Michonne eyed her phone and twisted her bottom lip between her thumb and forefinger. She'd spent so much time on her date thinking about Rick that she was itching to talk to him. She looked over her shoulder to make sure Mike was still busy with Jerry. When she was confident he wasn't heading back to the table, she picked up her phone.

* * *

No matter how many times Rick told himself to leave, he wasn't budging. He couldn't stop watching Michonne. He didn't want to miss out on a sign that she didn't want to be there. And now that she was sitting alone without that jackass all up in her personal space, he could fully enjoy the view.

"Goddamn," he whispered.

How could someone look so beautiful just holding a phone?

Rick couldn't tell if she was playing a game, texting, or Googling something, but she looked breathtaking doing it. His eyes remained fixed on her when he reached for his own phone after it chimed from an incoming text. He only allowed himself to glance at it when Michonne looked over her shoulder again to check on Mike.

He quickly scanned the message…

**Michonne** : **What are you doing?**

… before his eyes hurriedly returned to Michonne.

It took a few seconds for his brain to catch up with what he'd read, but once it did, his eyes abandoned Michonne for the text.

**Michonne** : **What are you doing?**

Rick's stomach quivered with excitement. Michonne was texting him? On her date? This wasn't a sign; it was a green light to go get his girl!

He quickly texted her back.

**Rick** : **Watching something**

He watched Michonne playfully roll her eyes at his response and type out another message.

**Michonne** : **It better not be Saw!**

**Michonne** : **If it is you have to watch again with me :)**

Rick laughed and quickly sent her another text.

**Rick** : **Wouldn't watch our movies without u ;)**

Delighted by his response, Michonne's grin stretched from ear to ear.

**Rick** : **You having a good time?**

Rick sent the message before he could rethink it. An N and an O were all he needed to go get his girl. And it had to be an N and an O, right? Why would she be texting him otherwise?

But when he looked at Michonne, her face answered the question for him. It was lit up like the sky on the fourth of July. It was the face of someone who was having a very good time and about to share the details of that very good time with… a friend. Unable to stomach the sight of Michonne's happy, beautiful face, Rick looked away from her and tossed his phone to the passenger seat with a growl of frustration. He could handle being Michonne's friend tomorrow and every day that came after. But tonight? N.O.

A bright, flashing sign a few doors down from the café caught Rick's eye. The Sunset Tavern. Rick grunted in approval. He needed a drink.

Michonne could hardly contain her glee. She didn't think she'd have to decide between telling Rick about the vampire bat or Lucille so soon, but he wanted to know if she was having a good time and those stories accounted for the good time she was having.

**Michonne** : **OMFG! Negan is the biggest freak!**

When Rick's response didn't come fast enough, she texted:

**Michonne** : **I have two words for you!**

**Michonne** : **Vampire**

**Michonne** : **Bat**

Michonne impatiently drummed her fingers on the table, wondering what was taking Rick so long to respond. While she waited, she absentmindedly looked out the window and gasped when she saw the man himself striding across the parking lot at a fast pace. The parking lot wasn't lit with the brightest of lights, but she knew that walk.

"Rick?" she murmured quietly to herself.

What was he doing here? Where was he going? Why was he dressed like that? And what had he done to his hair? Where were his curls?

As Rick walked farther away from the café, Michonne pressed her forehead against the window, straining to see where he was going.

"Michonne?" Mike asked, baffled by why she was mashing her face into the window.

Michonne slowly peeled her face off the glass and opened her purse to fish out a hair tie.

Was Rick on a date?! A Valentine's Day date? What a hypocrite!

She used her reflection in the window to gather her hair in a high ponytail. She then pulled her compact mirror from her purse to check her makeup. She had to look her best when she met Rick's mystery Valentine's Day date, didn't she?

"Michonne, is everything ok?" Mike asked nervously.

His excitement over Jerry being able to print sheet music for the binary sunset song was fading fast.

"No, Mike," Michonne answered flatly, snapping her compact mirror shut and dropping it back in her purse.

Mike slowly sunk into his chair. He wasn't sure what was happening, but he suddenly felt exactly like Luke in Return of the Jedi after finding out Leia was his twin sister.

As much as Michonne wanted to bolt out of the café to find out where Rick had gone and who he was meeting, she couldn't just leave without giving Mike an explanation first. She extended her arm out and waited for him to put his hand in hers.

"We need to talk."


	3. Chapter 3

After downing his first beer without taking a breath, Rick was nursing his second and thinking about ordering a third. He didn't need to drown his sorrows, but he did need to turn his brain off and forget all about Valentine's Day.

He laughed to himself when he put his beer bottle on a heart-shaped coaster because he should've picked some place other than the Sunset Tavern to forget. It was a Valentine's Day wonderland in there, and everything from the live band covering the most epic love songs to the selfie station set up like a kissing booth reminded him of how much he wanted Michonne.

"Oh my God! Aaron? Is that you?"

Rick recoiled from the girl who was all of a sudden invading his personal space and staring at him like she knew him.

"OhmyGod!" she yelped in embarrassment. "I'm so sorry! I thought you were someone else."

Magna giggled apologetically and turned toward her girls Yumiko and Connie. They'd hung back when she approached the guy she thought was Aaron because they didn't think he was Aaron.

"Not Aaron," Magna mouthed.

"Told you," Yumiko mouthed back, smirking.

"Told you," Connie signed with her hands, grinning. "But he's really hot!" she signed.

Magna glimpsed at him out of the corner of her eye and watched as he brought his beer bottle to his luscious, kissable lips.

"A total thirst trap!" she mouthed to her girls.

"He looks single. You should shoot your shot," Connie signed.

"You think?" Magna mouthed to Connie.

"Yes!" Connie mouthed back.

"What do you think?" Magna mouthed to Yumiko.

Yumiko gave the guy sitting at the bar a onceover. Sometimes she and Magna hooked up, and sometimes when they hooked up, they shared partners. She had no complaints about ending the night with Magna and that guy.

"Do it," Yumiko mouthed.

Magna gave her girls a thumbs up and shooed them away. She quickly adjusted her halter top to show off a little more boob, fluffed her hair out, and turned back to the guy who was going to be her Valentine.

"I'm Magna," she smiled, leaning against the bar on her elbow. "And you are?"

"Not interested," Rick answered between sips of beer, not bothering to look her way.

Magna stumbled back a few steps from the rejection. Too humiliated to say anything else, she rushed to the bathroom with tears in her eyes. Yumiko and Connie, watching from a few barstools away, quickly rushed after her.

"Asshole!" Yumiko hissed when she passed by the thirst trap.

Connie scowled at the thirst trap and flipped him off.

Oblivious to it all, Rick continued sipping his beer.

"Kid, you're bad for business," the owner of the Sunset Tavern chuckled while pouring a freshly shaken Sweetie Martini into two heart-shaped glasses.

As owner, Earl didn't have to bartend, but he liked to work on the biggest nights of the year to make sure everything ran smoothly. He'd worked enough Valentine's Days to know there was always one sad soul who showed up reeling from a lost love or longing for a new love, but he'd never seen anyone as grumpy as this kid.

"You keep breaking hearts," he said, making eye contact with the grumpy kid once both glasses were filled. "She was the third one to strike out with you. The second one you made cry."

Rick couldn't remember making anyone cry, but none of the girls stood out on the day that he was trying to forget.

"Lucky for them and for you, Cupid has arrows aplenty," Earl smiled, adding a cherry garnish to the drinks. "Your special someone could be right behind you. She could be the one to turn that frown of yours around."

Rick scoffed at the bartender and drained the rest of his beer. Michonne was the only special someone that mattered. For all he cared, Cupid could sit on his arrows and rotate.

"No, seriously," Earl chuckled, "you have another admirer coming from behind. She looks determined, too. Cupid must've got her good."

If not for the Red Velvet Mudslides he had to make next, Earl would've stuck around to see how things played out.

"Try not to make her cry, kid," he imparted as he walked away to deliver the Sweetie Martinis.

Rick hated the idea of making anyone else cry, but he wasn't interested in being just anyone's Valentine. He spun around on his barstool to reject this girl in the same way he rejected the last one.

"Not interested."

When he spun back around to flag the bartender down for another beer, his brain caught up with who he'd just rejected. He quickly spun around to face her.

"Michonne?!" he sputtered. "What are...? Michonne?!"

"Hello, Rick."

The tone of Michonne's voice surprised Rick out his shock. She never used that tone with him. She only used it with Phillip, Gareth, and Shane when they got on her bad side.

"Are we lying to each other now? Because you said you were watching something, Rick. But here you are… not watching something."

"What?! No! I wasn't lying!" Rick asserted, hopping off his barstool. "I wouldn't lie to you, Michonne. Not ever. I was watching y…"

He faltered right before blurting out the truth. Admitting to being a creepy ass weirdo didn't seem like the best move right now or ever.

"No, Rick, you weren't watching anything," Michonne retorted, folding her arms tightly under her chest. "I saw you! I saw you run across the parking lot and come here."

She looked around the Sunset Tavern with her face scrunched in sour disapproval. The place looked like Valentine's Day on steroids. Red, white, and pink balloons covered the ceiling. Silver glitter was scattered all over the floor. Most of the staff was dressed like slutty Cupids. And it was packed with so many laughing, dancing, and kissing couples that she had to push her way through the bodies to find Rick.

"You've also been ignoring my calls, Rick. Why?"

She knew why. He was a hypocrite who was too busy being a Valentine's Day sucker to pay any attention to her. She just wanted him to say it out loud.

"You called me?" Rick asked in concern, taking a step toward her. "Are you okay?"

He would've never left his phone in his car if he thought she was going to need him.

Michonne ignored the worry on Rick's face and looked around the bar area, searching blindly for his Valentine. Plenty of chicks were checking Rick out, but none came over to stake a claim as his date.

"Michonne, are you ok?" Rick asked, slightly more forcefully. "What happened?"

He was trying hard to keep his cool, but if he found out that asshat disrespected Michonne, all bets were off. He took another step closer to make sure there wasn't one hair out of place.

"I'm fine," Michonne mumbled, sizing up a blonde headed in their direction.

When the blonde walked past them without looking Rick's way, Michonne let out the breath she was holding and continued scanning the area.

"Michonne, where's Mike?" Rick asked in a tight voice.

He found no signs that she'd been physically harmed, but he was still concerned about Mike being inappropriate in other ways.

"I don't know," Michonne shrugged.

She took one last look around and gave up on searching for Rick's Valentine. There were too many women, and she had no idea what Rick's type was to narrow the field. She would have to wait until his Valentine made herself known.

"Our date is…" she began to say.

But she wasn't prepared for Rick to be standing so close. Looking up into those incredibly blue eyes nearly turned her legs to jelly.

"…over," she sighed out.

Rick's eyebrows shot up in confusion.

"Over? But it looked like you two were," he stopped and cleared his throat. "It seemed like you two would have a good time together.

"We had a good time," Michonne acknowledged, averting her gaze.

She had to look away before her legs gave out.

"I really like Mike. He's a nice guy," she said, fiddling with the zipper of her purse. "But I gave him Lori's number. They have more in common."

Every Monday morning, Michonne talked about the fun times she had with her best friend over the weekend, but Rick had only seen Lori a few times in passing. The most memorable time was on Halloween when she picked Michonne up after work dressed like Princess Leia.

"Mike and Lori," Rick said with an air of indifference, hiding how relieved he was.

While he struggled to keep his smile to himself, Michonne subtly breathed in Rick's cologne. It smelled so good. Rick smelled so good. She took another whiff of him and then took a step back to collect herself. She wanted to get back to the reason she and Rick were at the Sunset Tavern.

Clasping her hands behind her back, she asked in a quiet voice, "Rick, who is she?"

Michonne's soft voice pushed Mike and Lori right out of Rick's head. For the first time since she'd shown up at the Sunset Tavern, Rick took a moment to fully appreciate her beauty. With her hair pulled back instead of hanging down loosely, her face was on full display.

She was so pretty he couldn't think straight.

"Your Valentine's Day date," Michonne made clear when Rick looked at her blankly. "Who is she?"

Confusion spread across Rick's face as his mind processed Michonne's words,

"You don't have to lie about having a date," Michonne groaned, putting her hands on her hips. "And I'm not an idiot, Rick. Why else would you be here tonight? And why would you iron your jeans? You never iron your jeans. And you're wearing your favorite brown tshirt and your favorite pair of boots. And why would you do that to your hair?"

Rick self-consciously touched the top of his hair when Michonne frowned at it.

"I know Shane told you to do that, and I know why he told you to do it," she said.

Shane was always sharing unsolicited dating tips with the sales floor, and his dating tips always centered around one thing: impressing the panties off a date. He had dating tips for everything, including hair. His tip for the guys with curly hair was to slick it back with pomade to create a Rico Suave vibe.

Michonne obviously thought Rick still looked good with his slicked back, straightened hair, but his wild and springy curls were what did it for her the most.

"You went through all this trouble for someone," Michonne continued to frown.

She didn't try to pretend that Rick trying to impress the panties off someone didn't bother her.

"Who is she, Rick?"

Rick's cheeks heated with embarrassment because his crush was asking him who his crush was. Even with Mike out of the picture, it wasn't any easier telling Michonne how he felt when he didn't know how she'd react.

In Michonne's mind, Rick's embarrassment was tied to the only person they knew who was too embarrassing to date.

"Oh, Rick," she said sympathetically, holding onto his forearms. "Is it Jessie? Negan's assistant?" she asked in a low, conspiratorial voice.

"Bird Brain?!" Rick cringed. "You think I'd date Bird Brain, Michonne?"

"Ok. Jeez, Rick," she smiled to herself, letting go of his forearms.

She was thrilled she wouldn't have to deal with Rick making heart eyes at Jessie Anderson.

"So, who is she? And what's with all the secrecy, Rick? I thought we were friends."

"We are friends," Rick quickly replied. "You're one of my best friends, Michonne."

"Then who is she?" Michonne asked for what felt like the tenth time.

When Rick stood there tightlipped, she threw her hands up in frustration.

"Michonne, I don't—"

"Not interested," she interrupted, throwing back the first words he'd spoken to her tonight.

She was ready to leave this Valentine's Day hellhole, she just needed a ride home. Lori was home sick for the night, but Michonne knew Lori would come get her.

Michonne gave Rick a look she normally reserved for Phillip, Gareth, and Shane before pulling her phone from her purse.

Rick didn't know how the guys ever did anything to annoy Michonne after getting that look, and he didn't know how things had gotten this bad between him and Michonne. Not wanting to risk their friendship had put their friendship at risk. He had to fix this.

"Lori, can you please come—"

"Hi, Lori. It's Rick Grimes," he said into Michonne's phone after taking it from her. "I'll make sure Michonne gets home safe. Happy Valentine's Day."

"Rick!" Michonne gasped when he hung up on Lori.

"Michonne, please don't go," he pleaded.

Her phone started ringing and a picture of Michonne and Lori drinking from oversized wine glasses popped up.

"Hi, Lori. It's Rick. I promise Michonne is ok. We're at the Sunset Tavern on Hilltop Road, and we're kind of in the middle of something right now. Can you give us a minute?"

"Rick!" Michonne gasped when he hung up on Lori again.

"Please stay, Michonne."

When her phone started ringing again, Rick considered rejecting the call.

"Don't even think about it, Rick Grimes! Give me my phone," she demanded, holding her hand out. "Now."

Rick placed her phone in her hand and decided it was now or never.

"Lori, it's me," Michonne said into her phone after answering it.

"It is you, Michonne," Rick confessed, staring into her eyes. "It's you. There's no one but you."

Rick wasn't sure how to interpret the way Michonne was staring at him. The face he could usually read so easily gave absolutely nothing away.

"Lore, let me call you back," Michonne whispered, keeping her eyes fixed on Rick as she ended the call.

It terrified him not knowing how she felt about what he'd said, but there was no turning back. He hesitantly reached his hand out and placed it on Michonne's hip, gently gripping its thickness.

"Michonne," he said, softly, "I never had a date with anyone tonight. The 'she' you've been asking about… she's you."

Michonne slowly blinked in astonishment.

"Me?" she whispered.

"You."

Her brown eyes sparkled, encouraging Rick to continue.

"Michonne, I like you," he professed, bringing his other hand up to grip her other hip.

"I like you, too, Rick," Michonne said shyly.

Rick slid his hands up to her waist and wrapped his arms around her to pull her closer.

"I really, really like you, Michonne," he told her, gazing deeply into her eyes.

"I really, really like you, Rick," Michonne told him, wrapping her arms around his neck.

His blissed out, dimpled smile would've stolen her heart if she hadn't just given it to him.

"I've been wanting to ask you something," he breathed out, his voice a little shaky.

"Ask," she urged in a hushed voice.

"You'll think I'm a hypocrite if I do," he warned her.

"I'm already a hypocrite," she told him. "Ask me, Rick."

He rested his forehead against hers and rubbed his nose against hers.

"You'll think I'm a sucker," he warned, pulling his forehead from hers to go back to gazing into the prettiest brown eyes.

"We'll be suckers together," she grinned. "Ask me! Ask me! Ask me!"

Rick held her tighter, bringing their bodies flush against each other.

"Michonne, will you be my Val—"

"Yes!"

She pressed her lips to the lips of the cutest boy she'd ever seen to seal her yes with a kiss.

Rick's addiction to her lips—so plump, so soft, so perfect against his—happened fast. He deepened the sweet kiss for more, and Michonne melted in it. She gave his demanding lips and skilled tongue whatever they wanted.

Rick and Michonne pulled apart only when they had to and stayed apart for only as long as necessary.

"Happy Valen—"

Michonne's lips crashed into Rick's, silencing him again. She was done talking, and Rick was more than happy to spend the rest of the night kissing his girl on their new favorite holiday.

xoxoxoxoxoxo THE END xoxoxoxoxoxo

**Author's Note:**

> Reviews are appreciated! Let me know what you think about this story. Like it, love it, hate it? Any favorite moments? Please share your thoughts!


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